18. Completely delirious
Completely delirious
H e caught her just in time, cursing himself for not thinking of getting her a chair. She was light as he gathered her into his arms, too light. Her skin was clammy, and the ley markings had darkened to an eerie, ink-dark shade he had never seen before.
“Isa,” he breathed, panic surging through him as her head lolled against his arm, “talk to me.” He carried her to the bedroom, Luella following on his heels.
“She’s breathing,” Luella said once Felix had laid Isolde on her bed, pressing two fingers against her neck. “It’s probably only exhaustion.”
As she busied herself with pillows and blankets, Felix turned back to the other room. His eyes fell on Leif.
“Incredible,” the elder murmured, undisguised awe in her voice. “She did it. I had not thought…”
The wound on Leif’s side was no longer a deep, jagged gash – it was shallow, clean, and already beginning to scab. His breathing had steadied, and his skin had a little more colour to it.
Garren stood nearby, staring down at Leif, his expression unreadable. Then he turned and left the cabin without another word .
Asara was still there. When Felix glanced at her, she approached and smiled. “I understand now,” she said, with a trace of amusement in her voice. “How could anyone else stand a chance?”
Felix blinked, caught off guard. He opened his mouth to respond, but she gave a small, tired shake of her head. “Thank you for bringing Leif back here. And for encouraging her when she hesitated.” She nodded once and joined the elder, leaving Felix staring after her in silence.
He patched himself up, then insisted on keeping watch at Isolde’s side.
He refused to leave even when Luella argued it was her room, and told her to go sleep elsewhere instead.
Isolde slept for a full night and most of the day, so still that he constantly kept checking her pulse and breathing.
Felix did a lot of thinking in his chair at her bedside, about stupid decisions and bad calls and how he should maybe stop trying to get everyone killed.
***
Leif was back on his feet the next morning, to the utter shock of anyone who had witnessed him in his injured state. When he learned what Isolde had done for him – and what it had cost her – he had to be forcibly restrained from going to pledge her his everlasting loyalty that very instant.
When Isolde finally awoke, it was midafternoon, and Felix had succumbed to dozing off in the chair.
“Felix…” Isolde murmured, waking him up.
“I’m here,” he said quietly. She looked better. Some colour was back in her face, her eyes less sunken. Her markings were pale blue again. Relief washed over him. “Everything is fine; you used a bit too much –”
“You’re so beautiful,” she said with a sigh.
“... magic. What?” He stared at her, sure he’d misheard.
Her hand reached out toward him, trembling a little, like she was trying to catch hold of something. “Kiss me,” she murmured dreamily. “Why do you never kiss me, Felix? ”
If he’d had to make a list of a hundred, even a thousand things she might have said once she woke up, this would not have been on it. His mouth opened and closed stupidly. “Uh… Isa. Maybe you should go back to sleep.”
“I don’t want to sleep; I want you to kiss me.” She reached out for him again, feebly, like a sleepy kitten.
He should not be smiling. He definitely should not be laughing. But he couldn’t help it – it was better than acknowledging any of the other, much more complicated emotional responses to her request. “I get it, Isa,” he said, “but I think this is not the right time.”
Her brow furrowed, and she glared at him with all the strength she looked like she could muster. “Don’t laugh at me, Felix,” she mumbled, her eyelids drooping again.
“I’m not laughing at you,” he said, tucking her blanket back around her.
“Yes, you are,” she muttered. She forced her eyes open. “Why don’t you smile more? I like it when you smile…” Her voice faded, and she slipped back into sleep.
He sat and stared at her for what might have been seconds, or hours. Then he stood and made his way to the door, opening it to the main room. His feet felt unusually light, and he knew he was smiling like an idiot.
Luella jumped to her feet the moment she saw him. “Is she awake?”
“For a few minutes,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “But she’s… not entirely in her right mind.”
Luella frowned and pushed past him into the bedroom, Felix trailing behind. She knelt by Isolde’s bedside, checking her pulse and brushing a hand against her forehead. Isolde’s eyes fluttered open, and she blinked blearily at Luella, studying her for a moment.
“Luella…” she murmured, her voice slow and sleepy, “why won’t Felix kiss me?”
Luella froze mid-motion. Slowly, she turned her head to Felix, glaring daggers at him.
Felix raised his hands in mock surrender, a grin plastered on his face. “I told you. Not in her right mind.”
“Indeed,” Luella replied, her tone icy. She stood, brushing imaginary dust off her clothes. “Completely delirious.” She left the bedroom, and Felix followed .
Before either of them could comment on the situation, the cabin door opened and Garren walked in.
His eyes fell on the open bedroom, and he went inside to check on Isolde.
Felix watched him bend down by the bed for a few moments, then abruptly stand up, spin around and stride back into the main room, closing the door behind him.
Garren pointed an accusing finger at Felix. “What did you do?”
“I did nothing, Garren.”
“She told me to go away, and that she only wants to see you. What did you do?”
Felix leaned his face in his hands, shaking with the kind of laughter only the truly exhausted can produce.
“Consider yourself lucky she only talked about seeing,” Luella commented dryly.
Garren grumbled, then seated himself at the table.
“Don’t tell her when she wakes up, when she’s… back to herself.” Felix said more seriously.
Luella nodded without looking at him. “Not a word.”
Felix stared at the bedroom door. It was a terrible idea to continue down this path.
Isolde deserved better. Someone less emotionally stunted, who didn’t instinctively clock every exit in a room in case things went sideways.
Someone who hadn’t agreed to kill her, if it came to that.
If there was no other way. He sighed deeply. Luella gave him a wry look.
Who was he kidding? It would take a much better man than him to walk away. That man didn’t seem to be here right now. Just him, idiot that he was.
“We need to leave,” Garren said, interrupting his thoughts and changing the subject. “Once Lady Isolde can ride, or ride double if needed. With me or Luella,” he added, glaring at Felix.
Felix ignored the last comment. “I agree. The Duskrend will regroup and come after us again.” That bastard Alwin would not give up. He wanted to be as far away from here as possible, as soon as possible.
“Have either of you seen Leif?” Felix asked.
“Outside his cabin,” Garren said. “Head left from here. ”
Felix nodded in thanks and got up to go see how his favourite hunting partner was doing.
***
He found Leif where Garren had said he would be, sitting on a bench. When he spotted Felix, he scooted over to make space for him.
“How are you feeling?” Felix asked as he sat down.
Leif huffed and shook his head. “Yesterday I was sure I was gone. I saw the light and everything. Then boom, I’m not dead, and now I have to actually think about things.”
“What things?”
“My blood debt, and the fight, mostly…” He trailed off, his eyes downcast.
Felix leaned back against the bench, watching him carefully. “What about the fight?”
Leif hesitated, then glanced sideways. “You’ll laugh at me.”
“Try me.”
“I…” Leif’s hands fidgeted with the leather strap on his lap. “I killed someone. And it was so easy.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Easier than a boar.”
Felix nodded slowly, giving him space to continue.
“I didn’t even hesitate,” Leif continued, his words tumbling out. “They came at me, and it just… happened.”
Felix nodded again. “And now you feel a weird mixture of nausea, guilt, and pride, and you don’t know what to do about it?”
“I… yes.” Leif glanced sideways at Felix again. “Is it like that for everyone? Was it like that for you?”
The memory flooded his mind; the blood everywhere, the roaring crowd, the slippery blade in his hands. His mad dash into the fighter’s quarters to find a quiet place to throw up .
“Something similar, sure. It was a long time ago.” Fifteen years, give or take. He wished he remembered the other boy’s name, but he didn’t. He could only see his face, empty eyes looking up at the sky. “Eventually, it gets easier to live with.”
Leif’s brows furrowed. “Does it ever go away?”
Felix shook his head. “No. But you learn to make peace with it at some point. Failing that, there’s always drink.”
Leif let out a shaky breath, then laughed weakly. “I thought you were going to tell me to suck it up.”
Felix smiled faintly. “Not this time.”
They sat in silence for a moment. “Look, Leif,” Felix said eventually. “I should not have dragged you into that; I feel like an ass. If Isolde hadn’t… done what she did…”
“She did, though,” Leif said, with an almost reverent tone in his voice. “Just look – it’s barely a scratch now!” He lifted his shirt, revealing a shallow gash, well on the mend, as if it had been tended to by an expert healer for many weeks.
“Regardless,” Felix continued, “I had no right to drag you into that fight.”
Leif waved his apology away. “You didn’t force me; I did my part to keep my village safe. I’m not a coward.”
“I never said you were.”
They were quiet again for a while.
“What was that about a blood debt?” Felix asked, remembering Leif’s earlier comment.
“When someone saves your life, you owe them a blood debt,” Leif said simply. “It means you serve them and do anything they ask of you until they release you from the bond.”